


Jealous

by mardi89



Category: Erkenci Kuş (TV)
Genre: AU-after ep 36, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Can Divit in his feelings and in his drink, F/M, Jealousy, Sanem Aydin lost in her own head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-15 08:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18495370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardi89/pseuds/mardi89
Summary: “I'm jealous of the nightsThat I don't spend with youI'm wondering who you lay next toOh, I'm jealous of the nightsI'm jealous of the loveLove that was in hereGone for someone else to shareOh, I'm jealous of the love”





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record I had this idea before it was announced there would be a time jump in EK. I am freaking out about it a little bit so I needed to get some feelings out.
> 
> Playlist:  
> Jealous – Labrinth  
> Disarm – The Civil Wars  
> Without Me – Emma Heesters   
> Silhouette - Aquilo  
> When We Were Young – Adele  
> Take Me Home – Jess Glynne   
> Marry Me – St. Vincent  
> Bonus track if you wanna die: Can’t Make You Love Me/Nick of Time – Bon Iver (only on YouTube)

A small gust of wind hit him when the large doors into the wedding venue opened to allow more guests inside. He had positioned himself in the corner near the entrance where the bar was located. Two whiskeys in and the ceremony hadn’t even started. The only reason he came at all was for Emre.

  
Ever since his newfound relationship with his mother tanked, he’d been closer than ever to his little brother. This time when she left, she left both sons behind. They knew they were better off without her, but it was still difficult. Although it was nothing compared to what would happen soon after. 

If he thought he could hide anywhere else in the room he would move. The chill of spring hit him in the back every time a new friend or family member entered the room. He told himself he would move after he finished his drink. This time when the door opened, the breeze carried with it the distinct scent of wild flowers, and he froze in place. 

He inhaled sharply, then held his breath. He closed his eyes as his hand tightened around his whiskey glass until his knuckles turned white. Part of him wanted to inhale her scent and keep it locked in his lungs, to let it it unlock all his memories of her in his brain. The other part of him was terrified to take another breath, to relive the pain of losing her. The pieces of him were at war with themselves. 

Bodily function won out and he was forced to take another breath. When he couldn’t smell her perfume his eyes shot open. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. For a moment he thought he might have imagined it, it wouldn’t be the first time. Logically he knew that it _was_ her and she was really here. It was her sister’s wedding after all.

He finished his drink in one gulp. The burn of the whiskey dulled the pain in his heart just enough to give him the courage to turn around. He faced the crowd of people mingling and his eyes searched for her of their own accord. He found her in seconds. She was still the brightest light in any room. Her hair was shorter now. Chocolate brown tousled waves fell just past her shoulders, reminding him of what she looked like that summer he fell in love with her. 

She was absolutely stunning. It took him aback for a second. He could never forget her face, and he had always thought she was beautiful, even from the very first time he saw her. But his memories (and that one crumpled picture he kept in his pocket) did her no justice. She was happily greeting wedding guests, saying hello to distant relatives, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Even from this distance he could tell, he _knew_ her. 

He thanked Allah that she hadn’t noticed him yet. They hadn’t seen each other in a whole year, and he really didn’t want her to catch him staring like this. He had every intention of chilling out and being more discreet, until he saw him. 

He hadn’t taken notice of him before because he mingled so well with the other guests. Something about the way he strode through the crowd with purpose caught his eye. He saw it happen in slow motion, it was as if he knew what the man would do. He approached her from behind and slid his pale hands around her waist to hold her around the middle, his chin on her shoulder. She didn’t react except to smile when she felt his hands on her. 

If he would have been paying attention he would have noticed him whisper in her ear. He would have seen her smile fade and then turn plastic in the blink of an eye. He would have seen her stiffen in his embrace before forcing herself to relax. He didn’t see any of that because all he saw was red. 

When he started trembling he knew it was time to get out of there. He knew how he got around her. Even when they were together, his love for her made him crazy. Now that he had been without her for a year he was afraid he might go fully insane. He’d punched a man and sent him to prison out of jealousy, and Fabri hadn’t even touched her. This man seemed very comfortable with her body, and it made him want to commit murder. 

_Her_ _**boyfriend**_. _This man is her boyfriend._

He thought if he said it to himself that if would hurt less when it was later confirmed to be true. He was outside now, with no recollection to how he got there. He stood in the parking lot as dusk descended, just telling himself to breathe. The last of the guests trickled in, and he knew he would miss his little brother’s wedding if he didn’t get his shit together like right now.

He strode back in full of false bravado. He made his way down the aisle, taking his sunglasses off with flair in that way he did when he was excited or wanted to seem unflappable. He studiously avoided looking in her direction, but she would have to be blind not to have seen him. _Good_. _The real competition has arrived_.

Not that their siblings’ wedding was the place for such a competition, but he couldn’t control the flow of testosterone or what it did to his thought processes. He sat in the front row next to his dad. He clapped his old man on the back when he got up to sit at the head table. Emre had chosen their father to be his witness after he refused. Emre was understanding, but made him promise to show up. He fulfilled his promise, but it wasn’t without sacrifice. 

Getting out of work wasn’t a problem for him. A year ago he had gone back to traveling the globe, just him and his camera. For the most part he made his own schedule, and he liked to be kept busy. Emre made sure he was the first to know the wedding date so he had no excuse not to go. Money and work schedules had never been an issue when it came to returning to Istanbul. It was _her_. He knew he would have to sacrifice a little bit of his sanity in order to return to his hometown. 

Sitting here now, having made the trip, having seen her again after so long, he couldn’t decide if he regretted it or not. He supposed he would find out as the night wore on. Fortunately he wouldn’t have to stick around for any aftermath because he scheduled a gig for himself in Mykonos the day after next. He gave himself a mental pat on the back as the crowd stood for the couple’s entrance. 

His brother looked dapper as ever, and Leyla was stunning. Her white gown was in a soft, simple fabric that draped over one shoulder and flowed into a long train making her look like a Greek statue come to life. Although he’d never desired her in that way, he had to admit to himself that she made a gorgeous bride. He was so happy for Emre. He forgot himself for a moment and smiled when he saw the joy written on their faces. 

Everyone clapped and sat down as the happy couple situated themselves in their chairs at the head table. The registrar was there with her book and her red robe. Leyla had chosen her mother as her witness, probably after her sister refused.

  
When everybody else had their attention focused on the bride and groom, his was on _her_. He knew he should have been watching his little brother say _Evet!,_ but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to watch her unnoticed. She was smiling genuinely now and she had tears in her eyes. Her moods always effected him, and this time was no different. He smiled more fully than he had since the last time he saw her. She was his happiness, and it was never more apparent to him. 

Their siblings’ yes’s and the guests’ applause was a buzz in his ears as he stared at her and thought of where he went wrong. How did he lose the love of his life? How did he live for a year without his soulmate by his side? He quickly looked away when he felt a tear run down his face. He brushed it off his cheek roughly then faced the head table and clapped for his brother and sister-in-law. 

When they came down to greet their guests he locked his brother in a tight hug. He wasn’t sure if it was for him or for himself. Emre seemed to know and hugged back just as tightly, patting him on the back in that manly way of consolation. Leyla was next and she gave him a polite and surprisingly warm greeting of kisses on both cheeks. As hard as it was to see them again, he was glad the Aydins were in his life and part of his family. The newlyweds moved across the aisle to greet her family and he saw the pride on Nihat and Mevkibe’s faces. He always had respect and love for them. They deserved the best in life.

The music started and the food was brought out. He was back in his safe space at the bar. He was nursing whiskey number 3 or 4, he couldn’t remember. He knew he had to cut himself off after one more and stick to water the rest of the night as he was responsible for getting Emre’s car back to their dad’s house that night. Emre and Leyla would take a taxi to the airport after the party was over. They were flying to the Maldives right away in the morning for their honeymoon. 

He briefly considered getting up to get something to eat. The alcohol was getting to him more than it normally would because he hadn’t eaten all day. He reconsidered when he saw her standing near the food tables with her family and _him_. He just about matched him in height and was built well, if a bit on the lithe side. His dark hair looked to be wavy or curly, but was coifed with a little too much product. He had good bone structure and a strong straight nose. He was severe looking but undoubtedly handsome. Not really the type of man he thought she would like, but then again a lot of things had changed since they were together. With that thought and the sight of his competition he threw back the rest of his drink. 

Still, he couldn’t keep his eyes from her. She was nibbling on some of her mother’s cabbage rolls, and he couldn’t decide if he was jealous of her because he wanted to eat some, or of the dolma because he wanted to be that close to her lips. They were a shiny deep pink that matched her dress perfectly. She looked beautiful in everything, but pink was just one of those colors that did something for her. It was certainly doing something for him. He surreptitiously adjusted his pants as he ordered his final drink. He intended to pace himself, but he was weak and he needed the liquid courage. 

She was out on the dance floor having the time of her life. Even when she was being silly she had a gracefulness to her movements that mesmerized him. Maybe in another life she was a dancer? She was great at everything she set her mind to. He’d left before her book was published, but even hiding in the mountains of foreign countries he couldn’t escape the news of her novel’s great success. She had money and fame and another book deal, but he could tell just from looking that she was still the same person deep down inside. 

He felt safe enough now to make his way to the food tables. In truth he was incapable of resisting her mother’s food, besides, he knew he would get sick if he didn’t put something other than alcohol in his stomach. Eating Mevkibe Hanim’s dolma and kofte was more nostalgic than he anticipated, but he welcomed the warm feelings it brought. He searched for her in the crowd and when he found her she was already looking at him, a pleased sort of smile on her face. He smiled in return and held his dolma aloft in a cheers and thank you to the chef. He missed Mevkibe almost as much as he missed _her_. She was the best mother he had ever known.

Having finished stuffing his face (for now) he carried his drink over to a deserted table on the periphery of the dance floor. Before he arrived this afternoon he’d worried about people coming up to talk to him. Fortunately for him they didn’t have much family and none of Emre’s school friends knew him personally, so he wasn’t pestered. The few people there that did know him personally knew what had happened between him and _her_ , and so gave him his space. 

He had to admit to himself that it could also have something to do with his appearance. He wasn’t a total slob, but his bun wasn’t as neat as usual and he couldn’t bring himself to put on anything nicer than black jeans, black boots, a black button down shirt, and his usual accessories. The color scheme fit his mood. He felt more like he was going to his own funeral than his brother’s wedding. At least that’s how he’d felt this morning. Now that he’d seen her and hadn’t died on the spot he wished he’d put more effort in. He blew away the loose hair near his face and took a drink. 

She was still out on the dance floor, but now her heels were off. He hadn’t spotted _him_ in a while, but he wasn’t masochistic enough to seek him out. He tried to put all of his thoughts away and just watch her move. So far the DJ had played only upbeat or traditional songs. He knew how much she loved the traditional wedding dances. She loved to dance to pop songs too and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead as proof.

When the music transitioned to a slower more romantic song he finished his drink. His hands itched to hold hers. He wanted to kiss her little hands and place them on his shoulders. He wanted to hold her close and breathe in her scent. He wanted to go back in time. 

He’d been too busy wallowing in self pity to see _him_ coming. That man, her _boyfriend_ , swooped in and wrapped his arms around her before she could protest. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the image of them standing so close. He’d mentally prepared himself for something like this, but seeing it happen a few feet away was an entirely different experience. He forced himself to open his eyes and look, to confront his worst fears. When he looked he didn’t see what he thought he would. She seemed like she wanted to protest, but couldn’t. He wasn’t being forceful, but she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was. The long buried memory of her in a coral dress dancing with an unsavory Italian businessman slammed into the back of his brain. As if the memory of Fabri wasn’t enough, this man thought it was a good idea to tempt fate and lean in to kiss her. 

Rage and alcohol fueling him, he reached her in seconds. He had presence of mind enough to not cause a scene. His brother would _not_ thank him for punching a man and getting hauled off to jail at his wedding, as much as he wanted to. Instead he gently pulled her elbow until she was out of the creep’s grasp and behind his body. He was standing close enough to the scumbag now to see that his hazel eyes were bright with anger. He stood nose to nose with him for one second longer, just until he understood. The guy didn’t back down but he didn’t need him to. He smirked at him and reached behind himself to grab her wrist. Instinct kicked in and his body remembered how to find hers without seeing. 

She didn’t resist like he thought she might. She let him lead her off the dance floor away from _him_. He didn’t know where he was taking her, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. In fact, earlier in the day he feared being anywhere alone with her. Now he _needed_ it. He was done watching her pay attention to everyone but him. 

He pulled her into the long hallway that lead to the restrooms and bridal suite. He didn’t loosen his grip until he reached the end, even when she tried to pull away from him. He supposed that made him no better than her asshole boyfriend, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. 

“Can! Let go!” Her voice was a furious whisper. 

He obeyed, but only to turn on her and pin her against the wall. They were in semi-darkness, the nearest light was above the bathrooms several paces down the hall. He could make out her eyes, bright with anger, and her lips, still stained pink, and everything else was unimportant to him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her small hands were pushing against his pectoral muscles in protest, but it triggered more pleasant memories in him. 

He got impossibly closer and asked the question he’d being dying to ask all night. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with _him_?”

She didn’t wilt under his gaze, but raised her chin and spat back, “What business is it of yours?”

“You think this is none of my business?” He hadn’t been mad at her whatsoever up until this point. 

Now he was furious with her. 

He didn’t blame her for moving on, even though he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t blame her for bringing her boyfriend here, or for ignoring his presence all night. But to say that the things she did were none of his business? That tipped him over the edge.

“I’m still your husband!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a little more emo than I originally intended, but I’m not mad at it. 
> 
> Bonus points if you could tell what Turkish actor I used as inspo for the boyfriend. Hint: he’s fine af and his eyeball acting game is on point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The devil's on your shoulder  
> The strangers in your head  
> As if you don't remember  
> As if you can forget  
> It's only been a moment  
> It's only been a lifetime  
> But tonight you're a stranger  
> Some silhouette”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Jealous – Labrinth  
> Disarm – The Civil Wars  
> Without Me – Emma Heesters   
> Silhouette - Aquilo  
> When We Were Young – Adele  
> Take Me Home – Jess Glynne   
> Marry Me – St. Vincent  
> Bonus track if you wanna die: Can’t Make You Love Me/Nick of Time – Bon Iver (only on YouTube)
> 
> PS: I just read this whole chapter along to the playlist and I finished the last sentence just as the last note played. You should try it!

“I’m still your husband!”

The word _husband_ did something to her insides and she knew that her carefully constructed walls would crumble if she stayed for one more second.

She must have taken him by surprise because she was able to push him away enough to duck under his arm and bolt down the hall. She only made it a few steps before he caught up to her. When his large hand clamped down on her elbow she let out a gasp. He would never hurt her physically, it was his touch that electrified her. She didn’t try to pull away, but stiffened like a deer in headlights. She must have looked frightened because he was treating her as if she was a wounded animal. He gently pulled her closer to him, both of his hands on her upper arms. 

If she looked at him she would break, so she whispered to the floor, “I can’t do this.”

She couldn’t talk about this now, let alone be near him. She couldn’t look in his eyes, or feel his hands on her, or listen to the tone of his voice. It was too much.

“Let’s just…stop running.” His voice was so gentle that she had to hold her breath and squeeze her eyes shut to keep herself together.

“We can get out of here. I have Emre’s keys.” She heard him jangle them in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

She thought about it critically. He sounded like he genuinely wanted to talk, which was both good and bad. It was so much easier to sweep everything under the rug and keep building walls around her heart. But she knew she couldn’t do that forever. She had been breaking down little by little all night even though she made a conscious effort to avoid looking in his direction and she didn’t dare speak to him until he confronted her. And he said _let’s_ stop running, he meant him too. He was acknowledging that they were both to blame for what happened. Their relationship couldn’t really get any worse, and she could really use some air, so she bit the bullet.

She let all the air out of her lungs and opened her eyes slowly, bringing them up to meet his. “Okay. But I’m driving. You smell like liquor.”

He looked a little shocked when she grabbed the keys out of his hand and walked to the exit with purpose. He stood cautiously near the doors as she fetched her purse and sweater and slung her heels back on her feet. He looked like he was afraid she would bolt again, or that Ali would try to snatch her up. She thanked Allah that she didn’t see him anywhere and scampered back to _him_ before anyone could notice them leave together. 

They walked out into the chilly night side by side, the only sound coming from her heels clacking on the pavement. She could feel him looking at her, she knew he wanted to touch her, even just to give her his arm as a gentleman. Her hypothesis was proven correct when he quickly opened the driver’s side door of Emre’s red Mercedes for her to get in. She watched him jog around to the passenger side through the front window and it made her smile a little. _Some things never change.  
_

She buckled up and turned the heat on, acquainting herself with Emre’s car. When she felt confident and was sure he was buckled, she pulled out of the stall and turned to exit the lot. 

“Where to?” She was still avoiding direct eye contact.

“Um. I’m supposed to drop the car at Dad’s house, but we don’t have to go there.” He knew how many memories they shared there.

“Where is your dad? I mean, is he not staying there?” She checked her mirrors and looked both ways before turning onto the street.

“Oh yeah. He lives there again now, but he got a hotel room for tonight. I guess he wanted to spoil his new _lady friend_. You know him, regular party animal.” She knew he was trying to keep things light and she appreciated it. 

They fell into silence as she navigated to the Divit house on the other side of the city. Just like everything related to him, she was both excited and anxious to see the house again. It made her nervous to think that they would be alone in the place where their relationship both blossomed and died. It was some consolation to know that his horrible mother wouldn’t be there this time. She generally tried to think the best of people and give second chances, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that with Huma. She was the catalyst to the downward spiral of her marriage, and for that she could never forgive her.

It all started when they decided to elope. They couldn’t stand the bickering of their mothers and everyone else’s expectations, so they just went to the registrar with Leyla and Emre as witnesses and tied the knot. Her family was a little upset, but they understood their reasons and were of course accepting of the marriage. His mother on the other hand, was irate. She made a big show of leaving and made sure she knew that it was _her_ fault for ruining not only her son’s life, but also their newfound mother-son bond. She tried to brush it off, and he was quick to defend her, but Huma had planted the seed of doubt in her mind. 

Not long after her departure, Emre admitted to them that she had been plotting against her since before she even came to Istanbul. It was hurtful to hear, but she was glad to have the truth out in the open. _He_ didn’t take it well, understandably. He was angry that Emre had hidden something from him again. He was angry that he gave her a second chance when she didn’t deserve it. He was that abandoned little boy again, in the body of a man. That man didn’t handle grief well, and their marriage was so new that she didn’t know how to help him. 

They lived in the Divit house right after they were married. It all happened so fast that they hadn’t had time to look for a place to live, and after all the drama with his mother went down he was too preoccupied to care about getting somewhere for just them. She tried so hard to be understanding, but part of her felt neglected. She wanted the big family wedding. She wanted the quaint little house to make their own. For so long they craved just to be together, but sharing a bed and being physically near each other all the time was not all a marriage needed to be. He needed to be more open with her instead of avoiding his problems. She needed to be more forthcoming about her desires instead of taking a back seat. 

On a Friday night a month after they were married it became too much and she packed an overnight bag and headed to her parent’s house. She just wanted a hug from her dad and to sit in her old room and talk to her mom. More than anything she needed to hear some nice words from people who loved her. He hadn’t been intentionally cruel to her, but he would casually mention wanting to escape, to just go back to being a photographer with the world at his fingertips. She could tell that he craved the good old days and the simplicity of having no responsibilities. Part of her craved that too. It was easier when it was just her, working at the store, dreaming of her fairytale. But the fairytale wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and the wicked witch had really done a number on the princess’ self esteem. She didn’t know how to say any of that to him, so she just didn’t say anything at all. No note, no text or call. She just shut her phone and her brain off for the weekend. 

She was a little surprised that he hadn’t tried to contact her or come looking for her in the mahalle. Her weekend was refreshing though, and she returned home with a better mindset. When she walked into their bedroom she was shocked at what she saw. He had torn up the room. She noticed the empty whiskey bottle on his nightstand and the shattered picture frames on the floor. A sinking feeling settled in her gut when she noticed his clothes strewn all over the bed. She called his name, but it echoed in the empty house. Panic settled in her gut at the same time the certainty of what he did settled in her mind. She quickly booted up her phone to see if it would give her any answers. It did.

**Can(im):  
**

_**I’m leaving.**   
_

It still hurt to think about that day, even a year later. Time had given her perspective on some things, but let other things fester and rot. She knew that he was feeling vulnerable and abandoned. She knew she should have told him where she was going and what she needed. He shouldn’t have left for Thailand, and she shouldn’t have let him go without a fight. But hindsight is 20/20 and all she could do was try to move on.

She hadn’t started the day thinking she would end up going home with him. _It’s not like that_. There was a part of her that _wanted_ it to be like that. She was still pissed that he made such a scene with Ali then dragged her away like a caveman. But his overt possessiveness made her feel so wanted, and his touch burned her. Her desire for him hadn’t diminished in their months apart, and the fact that he looked a bit like a caveman didn’t help matters. His beard was bushier than she had ever seen it and his hair was in the loose bun style that was secretly her favorite. She knew that his clothes had been haphazardly chosen and thrown on, but he looked purposely chic in that way only he could. 

She shook her head to rid him of her thoughts, but she pulled into his driveway a moment later and old memories slammed into the back of her brain. 

He could sense her tense mood and said, “We don’t have to go inside. Do you want to sit outside? I can start a fire.”

“Sure.” She made an act of making sure the car was securely parked so she didn’t have to look at him. 

He got out and came around to get the door for her like she knew he would. That electricity, that _heat_ was still there every time he touched her, even just giving her a hand out of the car. She stepped out, but he didn’t leave much space between him and the car, so she stepped right into his space. Only their hands here touching, but she could feel how warm his chest was through her clothes. His scent hadn’t changed at all in twelve months. It was still an enigmatic thing that she couldn’t replicate and couldn’t ever forget. It was a testament to how wounded she was that she didn’t jump him right there and then. 

He must have felt the charge between them, but he didn’t push it. He let go of her hand, stepped away, and tilted his head to indicate that he would go in through the house, presumably to open it and get whatever supplies he needed. She stood there awkwardly for a moment after he left just summoning all her courage. She didn’t think they could repair everything with one conversation in one night, but she hoped that they could both find peace. She didn’t know what that looked like yet, but she was willing to try. 

She made her way around the house to the backyard. He was already crouched down by the outdoor fireplace stoking a small flame. He had draped a blanket across one of the seats, she assumed for her since she had bare legs and only a thin sweater. As she took her spot he turned to smile at her. She smiled back in thanks and curled up and covered up. He left for a moment and came back from the house with tea. He set it on the coffee table between them and took the seat opposite her. 

Neither of them touched their drinks nor started a conversation. Now that they were here she didn’t know what to do. They had always communicated so much with their eyes and their body language, but she was too scared to look directly at him. She could feel his eyes on her though. She had felt him watching her all night, but she still wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you back there, at the wedding.” Thankfully he had the guts to get straight to the topic, but it wasn’t what she expected him to say. 

She reached a hand out of her cocoon to take a sip of her tea. “No you’re not.”

“What?” He looked genuinely shocked at her response. 

“You’re not sorry. You would do it again in a second.” She felt brave enough to look him in the eyes when she said it. 

He stared right back. “You’re right. I would.”

Now they were getting somewhere. 

“His name is Ali, by the way.” She could play it close to the vest, for now.

“You know that I don’t care what his name is.” _I care who he is to you._

“I met him on my book tour. He’s a fellow author.” Another sip of tea. 

“Good for him.” He took an aggressive sip of tea, and he made a pinched face when he discovered it was too hot. 

She was feeling smug, but she also felt a little bad. “He lives in Izmir so we started meeting up for coffee when he was in town. He was really helpful when I was just starting out. I didn’t know anything about the industry.”

“I’m glad you had someone like that to help you.” He still looked like he’d rather not hear about it, but sounded genuine. 

“It’s so different from when I worked at the agency. Everyone is so isolated, or has their own groups that they stick to. It’s really hard to break in and sort of make friends.“ She could see him flinch a little when she mentioned when they worked together, but he was listening intently.

“He’s really my only friend in the industry. I don’t get out much. Just sit in my apartment and write really.” She noticed him perk up a little at the words _friend_ and _apartment_.

“Last week we met up for drinks and I casually mentioned that my sister was getting married. Ali loves weddings I guess, and he said he really wanted to meet my family.” Why was she so nervous?

She just needed to get it all out. “In all honesty I let him come because I didn’t want to look pathetic and lonely.”  
He had a very serious look on his face. There was conflict in his eyes and he seemed guarded but hopeful. 

“You could never be pathetic.” He was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I knew he liked me more than I like him, but I didn’t think he would do anything…like that.” The truth spilled out of her unbidden. “He’s just my friend. I don’t want anything like that from anyone.”

“Anyone?” _Even me?_

Her heart was racing already just from telling the truth and when he challenged her like that she thought she might hyperventilate. She looked directly at him, her answer in her eyes.

“And you? Anyone?” _Did you find someone else?  
_

“No.”

She was momentarily confused as to whether he meant he didn’t find anyone new, or if he didn’t want a relationship at all, until he launched himself over the coffee table to kiss her. His lips firmly pressed against hers, his body braced above her, it was so much, _too much_. 

She pulled away to look at him. She was breathing heavily and she knew she looked frightened because her fear was reflected in his eyes. This could either be the best decision they ever make, or the worst. A look passed between them and they knew.   
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back in. He kissed her like she was the air he breathed. Her instincts kicked in and her body instantly remembered. Her fingers slipped into his hair as he opened his mouth to tangle their tongues together. She tilted her head for better access as he wrapped his long arms all the way around her. She automatically tightened her hold and wrapped her legs around his torso for him to lift her. 

He carried her with ease into the house and down the hall to his bedroom. All the air left her lungs when he dropped her down on his bed and stood over her. He was so beautiful. She had managed to loosen the knot so his hair flowed over his shoulders, longer than she had ever seen it. His eyes were hooded and his lips parted in lust. She saw his adam’s apple bob in the column of his throat. Several of the top buttons of his shirt were undone so she could see the strength of his broad chest, a scattering of dark hair peaking out. She followed the buttons of his shirt down to his narrow waist and muscular thighs, trying not to look at the obvious bulge between them.

She could feel his eyes on her too, like she had most of the night. But now it was different. She didn’t want him to look to feel jealous, but to _really_ look at her. She wanted him to claim her, make her remember what it was like between them. 

“You are so fucking beautiful.”The intensity in his eyes made her belly swoop.

He put his knees on the bed between her legs to crawl over her. He held himself over her by his forearms and just stared into her eyes from a close distance. It looked like he was memorizing her, or deciding if this was a dream or not. She decided to help him by leaning up to lick his adam’s apple, right under his beard. Something like a grunt and a whimper came out of him. She laid her head back on the mattress and found his eyes. She had stoked the flame into an inferno.

His hands were everywhere, almost in a panic to find the zipper on her dress. She was afraid he might just tear it off so she guided him to the side zip. She freed her arms from her sweater and he pulled the tab down and loosened the deep magenta silky fabric. He pulled the straps down her shoulders and tugged at the hem to remove her dress entirely. He only got it down to her waist before he paused. 

He picked up the delicate silver chain from around her neck so he could inspect what dangled between her breasts. He put the tip of one of his too large fingers through the loop of her wedding band to bring it closer. His eyes found hers for a moment before dipping back down to look at her moonstone engagement ring, also on the long silver chain. 

“I told you I would never take it off.” It wasn’t the same as wearing it on her finger, she knew, but it was something.

He didn’t respond, but pulled out a mess of necklaces from under the collar of his shirt. He found a dark corded one and pulled until it came away from the rest of them. At the end of it was his simple gold wedding band. Neither of them had kept their promise to keep their wedding rings on until death do they part, but both had kept them near their hearts. The symbolism of their marriage itself wasn’t lost on them. 

This time when he kissed her it was slow and deep and full of emotion. 

She was anxious to get to more of his skin. While he was preoccupied with her mouth, she deftly unbuttoned his shirt. She ran her hands from his collar bones down across his nipples and over his abs to the fly of his jeans. The feeling of her fingertips on his skin stirred the passion in him and made his kisses more fierce. When her fingers touched the skin under his waistband he bucked into her hand instinctually. She undid the button and zipped down the fly so she could touch him through his boxer briefs. He stopped kissing her to let out a heavy breath. 

He stood up again at the edge of the bed between her legs and shed his shirt and pants. She could see that he was leaner than last she saw him, but still just as strong. She watched the muscles in his arms and the veins of his hands as he pulled her dress all the way off of her. She was left in her pale pink strapless bra and panties. She hadn’t put on matching lingerie thinking that anyone would see it, but she mentally patted herself on the back for it anyway. 

She could see conflict in his eyes. He was obviously aroused by her, but there was also a fear there that she had put matching underwear on for someone else. He seemed to make up his mind and his eyes darkened.

“Mine.” He growled the word and pressed his body into hers. 

The weight of him was foreign and familiar at the same time. Her body quickly remembered and she pressed her breasts into him as he devoured her neck. He had her bra off in record time and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties as he kissed a line down her throat. She lifted her hips for him, and then she was bare before him. She didn’t let him enjoy the view for long as she was anxiously tugging at his underwear, asking him to take them off. He wanted to look, but she wanted to _feel_.

His long fingers wrapped around her tiny wrists and pinned them to the mattress, holding her still for just a moment. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. He liked what he saw. After taking a second to stare, he did as she bid and shed his boxer briefs. She sucked in a breath when she felt his length touch her hip. She wanted this, _desperately_ , but it had all happened so quickly, and it hadn’t felt real to her until now. 

The fear was back in her eyes, but she looked straight into his anyway. She needed this. It was the most emotion she had felt in over a year. She wanted to _feel_ again. It had always been like this with him. Happiness, sadness, excitement: no emotion hit the same without him. She was ready.

He must have seen the anxiousness and resolve in her eyes because he didn’t stop, but he didn’t charge ahead either. He braced himself on one elbow so he could use the other hand to touch her. He ran his fingertips across a nipple and down the slope of her belly to her center. She bit her lower lip when she felt his hand move to her entrance. He began kissing her neck, his beard rubbing her soft skin sent sparks of arousal through her. She could feel his middle finger push in slightly and she let go of her lip so she could take a deep breath. She could write an entire book of poetry about his hands. He was slow and gentle but his hands were big and rough, in the best way. 

After one stroke she was gasping, after two strokes he added another finger. It was almost too much, but it was exactly what she needed. He’d bent down to lavish attention on her breasts. At first she thought it was for her benefit, but judging by the sounds he was making, he was happy to reacquaint himself. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Kiss. “I wanted to touch you so badly all night.”Lick.

His words in combination with what he was doing to her almost pushed her over the edge. She had to pull him back up to her face so he would get the hint that she wanted to proceed to the main event. He kissed her hard and pushed his fingers in one more time in what felt like a possessive move. She moaned in his mouth and he pulled his fingers out so he could grab on to the backs of her thighs. Her legs were already around him, but he pushed them so her knees were closer to her chest. He was taking charge and she _loved_ it. 

Once he had her spread out under him just how he wanted, he lined them up and pushed in a little. There was just something about the moment he first pushed in. It gave her butterflies every single time, but this time it was on another level. She cursed herself for ever leaving him when just the tip felt this good. She didn’t know if he was trying to torture her or get her acclimated, but she couldn’t stand it any longer. She wiggled her hips as much as she could while keeping her legs where he had put them. She wanted him to be in charge, but she could still give him some hints along the way. 

“Fuck!” He growled and reared back to hold her hips still. 

He was still inside her, the new angle turning her on impossibly more. She made a whimper sound at the back of her throat so he would know that she wanted it like this and she wanted it now. His eyes dilated to full black when he slowly pushed all the way in. He held her under her knees for leverage and control while he thrust into her, slowly at first, then faster. Through her haze of ecstasy she vaguely wondered if he was trying to make it last longer, cherish it in case it never happened again.   
He hit that spot inside her every time he pushed in, but he was far away from her in this position. She ran her fingertips over his taut abs, ending at the base of him. He groaned and pushed in harder. She smirked and did it again, but this time he trapped her hand with his own. He guided her hand to where they were joined, then to her clit. He was telling her to touch herself. At this point she had lost all of her fears and inhibitions, so she did as she was told. 

His eyes were so hooded in lust she could barely see them. She knew he was watching her. He always loved to look. She made a show of it by holding his hip with her left hand and touching herself with her right hand, bringing her breasts closer together on her chest. His pace increased and her breasts bounced along with it. His mouth dropped open, staring at her chest as he thrust harder and harder. She rubbed her clit faster and faster to keep up with his movements.

“God, baby. You’re so fucking sexy.” He sounded breathless, which meant he was close. 

She was close too, but she needed something, more of him. She stopped touching herself so she could gently pull on his biceps to let him know she wanted him on top of her. He obeyed, slowing his thrusts and letting go of her legs. She captured his mouth as soon as he was close enough, putting all the words she couldn’t say into her kiss.   
He didn’t have a problem talking though.

“You’re mine. No one else touches you like this. No one else _loves_ you like this.” He never did have a filter when they fucked. 

The sensations and emotions were too much, it pushed her over the edge into oblivion. She knew her moan was obscenely loud, and she would have been ashamed if it were anyone but him. He did that to her, he said that to her, she didn’t care about anything else. 

She heard his stuttered moan and felt him twitch inside her. He kissed her languidly as he pulsed all his love into her. She thought dimly that this was the first time they had ever had sex without using protection, but she couldn’t bring herself to be upset by it. She liked feeling him, skin on skin. And instead of being grossed out or scared, him filling her made her feel whole and more connected to him than she ever had. 

When he recovered and looked at her, she knew he realized too. When he saw the look on her face his expression changed to match her own. He didn’t regret what they did or how they did it. 

He reluctantly pulled out and she turned so they could lay facing each other. 

She didn’t know how to ask it, so she just went straight for it. “Did you mean it? What you said?”

She felt so small and alone now that she wasn’t surrounded by him. She pulled her arms into her chest for protection.

He was looking all around her face, taking her in. When she shrank in on herself he reached out to brush her hair back from her temple. 

“Yes.” His fingers ran through her dark hair above her ear. “I never stopped loving you and I never will.”

Tears came to her eyes unbidden. She was so mad at herself for messing this up. She was so happy that he still loved her. She was so scared of getting hurt again.

But he was worth it.

“I love you.” She whispered.

He looked shocked at first but then his face slowly changed. His eyes were so full of love and vulnerability, they brimmed with tears.

***********************

  
They hadn’t dressed, but got cozy under the covers of his big bed. She leaned against him, in the crook of his armpit where she fit perfectly, and reached over to the plate on his lap for a strawberry. He made up a plate of fruit for them to share, still always making sure she was fed. 

“So, I have to tell you something.”

She stopped chewing so she wouldn’t choke. 

“I have to leave for Mykonos tomorrow. To be honest I booked a project there on short notice so I wouldn’t have to stick around here long after the wedding.”

She resumed chewing and breathing.

“Do you…?” He paused to run a hand through his hair nervously. “God, I’m an idiot. Do you want to come with me?”

His last sentence came out so fast it was almost too hard for her to comprehend. She just stared at him with her mouth agape like a fish.

“You don’t have to. I understand that you have a life, and a schedule an-“

“Yes.”

She smiled so big her cheeks hurt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than anticipated, but I’m pretty happy with it. It is the longest “chapter” I have written for any story, so it was a little different for me. 
> 
> Let me know what you think down in the comments!
> 
> PS: I was super vague but the actor who inspired Ali’s looks is Akin Akinozu. Hercai is my guilty pleasure rn. He’s just so pretty I couldn’t help myself.


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